


The Quest to Reclaim a Mountain

by wanderlust_21



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: BAMF Bilbo Baggins, Bilbo is not dealing with your shit Thorin, Bilbo needs some friends, Developing Friendships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Humor, M/M, Meddling Wizard(s), Mix of book verse and movies, Protective Thorin, Quest of Erebor, Thorin Is an Idiot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-01-21 04:31:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12449748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderlust_21/pseuds/wanderlust_21
Summary: A collection of one-shots of the journey to Erebor. Each chapter is its own story. Each story is set somewhere along the journey.





	1. The Trolls

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Hobbit fanfic. Overall it is supposed to be very light and crack-ish but some parts ended up being more serious. This is not as well written as it could have been. I'm open to suggestions on what I should improve.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What a nice mess they got themselves into; half of them stuffed in bags while the other half roasted upon an open fire. Oh, why did he listen to Fili and Kili? Why did he put up with their antics? This was his fault entirely! "No this is the dratted wizard’s fault, he just had to sweep by and drag me along on this journey. Where is he now that we actually need him?" Bilbo thought bitterly.
> 
> OR
> 
> The one where the company almost becomes dinner to three hungry trolls and Bilbo is just so done.

**

Bilbo concluded that he was too far from the ground. Truly, no Hobbit should be so high in the air, yet here he was dangling in the cool summer breeze as his limbs were stretched apart by two sets of large, calloused hands. In any other situation, swinging freely in the air would’ve been quite a ride for the small Hobbit, but considering his circumstances, he most certainly was not enjoying himself. He could hear his heart pounding vigorously in his ears; blocking out the commotion of the dwarves. The world around him seemed to be growing dim, the darkness over his eyes grew stronger, he was going to pass out…

But then, “Lay down your arms, or we'll rip his off!” boomed one of the trolls; bringing him back to reality.

Bilbo’s eyes snapped open and his head whipped back in fear. They were going to tear him apart, he would certainly die. He was going to die a horrible death so far away from home! The company would never surrender, and quite frankly he didn’t blame them; releasing their weapons would be suicide. They could always find a new burglar along the way, a real burglar, and reclaim the mountain. It is not like he would have been of any use to them. Although he has grown fond of his companions these past few weeks, most of them thought him a burden. In fact, only a few bothered to speak to him or acknowledge his presence at all.

He watched them dejectedly as they threw him ruefully glances. When he caught Thorin’s eye, however, his chest constricted. The Dwarf was glaring spitefully; piercing blue eyes staring daggers at him. Bilbo felt a lump forming in his throat. He knew the Dwarven King disapproved of him, but had he been so much of a hindrance to the company that Thorin wished to see him meet a gruesome end? _Why am I so surprised, I should have known. He wanted me gone and now he is getting what he wanted. I should never have…_

Bilbo’s thoughts were cut off but the clanging of metal. He peered up and watched, much to his horror, as the company followed Thorin’s lead and set down their weapons. His heart plummeted to his stomach, the fools were going to get themselves killed. They were going to die and all their venturing will be for naught. Confound these dwarves! What do they think they are doing?

**

What a nice mess they got themselves into; half of them stuffed in bags while the other half roasted upon an open fire. Oh, why did he listen to Fili and Kili? Why did he put up with their antics? This was his fault entirely! _No this is the dratted wizard’s fault, he just had to sweep by and drag me along on this journey. Where is he now that we actually need him?_ Bilbo thought bitterly.

All the while, the trolls argued over how they should cook the company—one suggested they squash them into jelly, while another wanted to ‘saute them with a sprinkle of sage.’

“Hurry up will ya? The sun is rising fast n' I don’t fancy being turned to stone!” shouted the third one.

 _Stone? What’s that supposed to mea—STONE! THAT’S IT!_ Bilbo’s mind was racing with thoughts as he formulated a plan. He hopped to his feet as quickly as he could—which was quite slow seeing he was tied and all. He had to act fast and buy time before the trolls harmed any of the company. Sunrise was still a good half-hour away, he didn’t want to risk it—many things could happen in thirty minutes.

“WAIT! WAIT!” the Hobbit called out as loud as his small body could allow him. “You’re making a terrible mistake!”

The dwarves all looked up at him with a mixture of agitated and bemused expressions. Some of them told Bilbo to hold his breath because he ‘couldn’t reason with trolls’, but he ignored them. “I mean with the seasoning!” he added without much thought.

“Bah! What do you know about cooking Dwarf?” the first troll asked.

“Shut up and let the flurgle-burglar-hobbit speak!” shouted the second.

Bilbo began his speech about how you properly cooked a Dwarf—which was just a whole lot of nonsense really since he didn’t actually know nor did he ever want to know anything about the subject. “Well first off, have you smelt them? You’re gonna need more than sage to plate this lot up. You’re gonna need to… uh to skin them first!” Bilbo said stupidly. The company didn’t like the sounds of that as they began to threaten to skin him if they got free. Some began to kick him and managed to make him stumble to his knees.

The trolls didn’t seem to buy what he had just said to make matters worse. One of them went over and picked Bombur up to prove that there was nothing wrong with eating a raw Dwarf, clothes and all.

“NO!” shouted Bilbo. “Not that one! He’s got worms… in his tubes. In fact, they all do!”

“What are ye sayin’ then. We let them all go?” asked the second troll angrily.

Just then, there came a voice that sounded like the third troll. “We should sit on em and squash them to jelly!” it said.

“Shut it! Nobody was talkin' to ye!” yelled the former as he punched him.

“We should roast them over the fire!” shouted a voice that sounded like the second troll.

“NO!” spoke up the first as he slapped the other two.

The three trolls wrestled on the ground, each punching and kicking the other at every chance they could find. There, rolling on the ground, they lay unaware of their surroundings as the sun began to peak over the horizon. The first the company heard was a shriek piercing their ears as they watched the trolls jumping to their feet; desperately trying to find shelter from the sun, but it was too late. The sun was up and shining in the sky. Never in his life will Bilbo forget the strangled, tortured sounds they screeched as the blazing sun scorched their skin and flesh. Within a matter of seconds, they all stood there like statues as though they never existed.

For an entire minute, the company went dead silent as they tried to process what they just saw. The first to speak was Kili. “They’re dead,” he said hazily. “We’re saved, we’re free!” His expression changed from bewildered to hopeful as he spoke.

“Saved you are, Master Dwarf, but not free yet!” came a deep tenor from behind the large boulder to their east. Gandalf stepped out into the open putting on his best disappointed-parent face. Despite himself, however, he couldn’t seem to hide his amusement with their current predicament.

“Gandalf!” cheered the company.

**

Once freed, the company thanked the wizard profusely for his timely rescue. Bilbo stood to the side all the while, feeling horribly out of place as the dwarves talked amongst themselves. He sat on a log and dropped his head into his hands, still feeling disoriented from being manhandled by the trolls. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, feeling exhaustion seeping into his bones. He just wanted to rest and be left on his own for a while until he regained composure. For a few minutes, he sat there with his eyes closed, head in his arms, soaking up the warmth from the rising sun.

He didn’t feel a whole lot better, but at least the queasiness was gone. He opened his eyes and stared at the patch of grass beneath his feet. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a pair of black boots approaching him. He knew his moment alone was too good to last. He wouldn’t have any peace now that Thorin Oakenshield, leader of their company, was coming to talk to him. He let out a sigh and looked up at the Dwarf now standing before him. Bilbo smiled politely hoping to relieve some of the tension between them, but his gesture was returned with a frown.

“What were you thinking?” the Dwarf asked abruptly. “Were you even thinking _at all_! You got yourself captured and put everyone else in danger! We could have all died! You could have been ripped apart! Don't you ever pull something like that again! I will _not_ have you endanger everybody’s lives with your foolish messes!”

Bilbo felt his anger rising. It’s not like he was trying to get caught. It wasn’t even his idea in the first place! He didn’t see Thorin yelling at his nephews, so why was he picking on him? “Me? Oh, I don’t think so Master Dwarf! It was _you_ that risked everybody’s lives not me! What were you thinking, dropping your weapons like that!” he seethed.

“What is that supposed to mean? You think I should have left you to be killed! They were going to tear you apart! Do you understand that you could have died!”

“Don’t act like you care what happens to me. You told Gandalf that you would not be responsible for my fate, that you would not guarantee my protection! You only care that your company has a burglar and let’s face it, there are plenty of burglars around. You can find a replacement for me at any given moment.”

Thorin gaped at him not knowing how to respond. He had said such things to Gandalf, he had meant them at the time, but now… he wasn’t so sure. “Excuse me, I have things to do before we set off for the day,” Bilbo finally said as he stood up and brushed past him, heading back to camp.

 _Darn, that blasted Hobbit!_ thought Thorin. The halfling may have bested him today, but that won’t happen next time. No, next time he will get the last word and walk away leaving the burglar speechless. He will make sure of it.

**


	2. An (Un)Expected Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a week since their encounter with the trolls and Bilbo is feeling more and more out of place with the dwarves. Bofur comes in and saves the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really late. I just didn't know how to go along and write it. I did a few versions but I didn't like any of them, this one turned out alright though. Sorry for the long update, hope you guys enjoy the chapter. Feel free to leave comments on things that I can improve, I'm always open to new ideas.

**

The blazing afternoon sun beat down on the company as they traveled on. After their incident with the trolls last week, Thorin had insisted they make haste, but that happened to be easier said than done, considering half of their ponies and most of their provisions were gone. Their usual twenty-mile rides that normally took them a number of hours now lasted twice as long. 

Much of the land around them stood bleak and barren. Save the howling wolves at the late hours of the night, they encountered no other beings along the road. Their already poor conditions worsened daily as the loads upon their backs grew lighter and their food and water reserves rapidly depleted. Only half their supplies were spared the night the ponies bolted. Now, this was by no means a small amount, but rationing it off for thirteen dwarves, a hobbit, and a wizard left little for everyone. 

The dwarves were in a foul mood and Bilbo couldn't blame them. Even he was feeling sullen. If he thought he had been hungry before, it was nothing to what he felt now. Going from six meals a day to less that one in the matter of a few weeks was quite unsettling. His insides churned violently and he felt lightheaded most days now. 

To make matters worse, he felt the growing divide between him and the rest of the company again. Bofur and Balin hadn't spoken to him in days, and Fili and Kili hadn't said a word to him since last week's incident. The rest of the company had barely ever glanced his way. Although no one had said it, he knew that the company blamed him for their current situation. He just let things be and kept to himself for fear of angering any of them. 

As the day grew old and the sun came to set, the company came to a halt. "Fili! Kili! Collect wood and get a fire going, we will set camp here tonight!" Thorin ordered.

**

Bilbo had set up his bedroll off the side far away from the rest of the company. He sat on the ground, leaning back against a tree when he suddenly shivered; the nights had been growing colder lately. He wrapped a blanket around himself and watched the late night sky. It was one of the clearest nights Bilbo witnessed during their journey so far; not a cloud was in sight. The full moon shone brightly, and the stars were scattered across the inky sky like diamonds sewn unto black velvet. 

He tore his eyes from the sky and looked upon the sleeping dwarves. He sighed to himself as unwelcomed thoughts of the past week invaded his mind. Why did he come on this journey? He should have stayed home. Thorin was right; he shouldn't be out here, he has no place amongst the company. _Why did he come?_ Had his life been so empty that he had nothing better to do than come on some suicide mission? Had he been so lonely that he felt so drawn to the kinship the dwarves shared? Had he missed his mother so much that he wished to follow in her footsteps and go on an adventure like she had when she was younger? 

Bilbo was not one to envy others, but he did the dwarves. He craved their closeness to each other, their familiarity and ability to communicate their feelings together without having to talk. Perhaps it was the fact that they were all closely related that he envied most.

After his parents' deaths, he had no one to turn to for help or guidance. He was never particularly close to his extended family. That never mattered much to him. Over time, he had gotten used to his isolated life, but now he came to realize how lonely he is. How had he managed to live on his own all those years?

He tried to will away these dark, upsetting thoughts, but he was far too deep in long-buried memories. Instead, he let them wash over him. His eyes began to sting and his chest constricted as hot tears rolled down his cheeks. He hid his head in his arms and cried. 

**

"Master Baggins?" a gentle voice asked.

Bilbo felt a light hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Bofur looking down at him with a concerned expression. 

"What's wrong? Are ye hurt?" the dwarf inquired.

Bilbo shook his head. "No, I'm fine" he answered forcing a smile. "What are you doing up at this hour? It's nearly midnight."

"I'm keeping watch. Mind if I join ye?"

"N-no, not at all." 

Bofur sat down and leaned against the tree. They sat together in silence for a few minutes as Bilbo composed himself. The dwarf eyed him curiously debating whether or not he should say something. 

"Why are ye sitting alone all the way over here?" he finally said.

Bilbo hadn't expected that question. "Oh, I-I just wanted to be alone for a bit." He cringed at how much of a lie that was. He didn't want to be alone, he wanted to be in the company of others. He needed to be around people.

Bofur nodded. "Master Baggins, I'm really sorry. We haven't been the best of companions to you, and I hope no one has said anything to upset ye. I want ye to know that nobody in the company wishes any harm to befall ye." He said and began to stand.

Bilbo quickly reached out an latched onto his arm. "Can you stay a little bit longer?" he barely managed to whisper as he felt a lump form in his throat.

The dwarf looked down at him in surprise before smiling kindly. "Of course."

He sat beside Bilbo and disarmed himself. He set down his ax and sword on the grass in front of him and leaned closer to the hobbit to his left. "Why are you upset, Master—"

"Bilbo" he cut him off. "Please, none of this Master business. You can call me Bilbo."

Bofur grinned and nodded in assent. "As ye wish, Bilbo. Now tell me: why are ye upset? Did someone say anything to ye?"

"No, it's not like that. I just... I guess I miss my old life." And he did. He missed being a little faunt, playing in the woods, coming home to his mother and father. He missed having someone be there for him. 

"I understand what ye mean. I miss my old life too; being a young lad, drifting through life without a worry in the world." He looked at Bilbo thoughtfully. "Bilbo, I want ye to know that I am your friend. If ye ever need anything, I'll be here for ye." 

Bilbo looked up at him with wide eyes. "Thank you. I'm honored that you consider me a friend."

The dwarf smiled fondly at him. They talked into the night until the moon shone directly overhead. The chilled air picked up and Bilbo shivered. He pulled the blanket tighter around himself and leaned his head sleepily onto the tree trunk behind him. Bofur looked at him and smiled.

“Excuse me for a minute, Bilbo. I’ll be right back," he said as he stood up and walked back to camp. He maneuvered between sleeping dwarves trying to find his brother. When he spotted said dwarf, he knelt beside him to wake him up.

"Bombur, wake up!" Bofur whispered as he poked his arm. The dwarf rolled over and looked up at the former through blurry, sleep-ridden eyes. “What is it?” he asked hoarsely.

“It’s past midnight, your watch is up. C’mon brother mine.” Bofur gave him a pat on the arm and walked back to his own sleeping bag. But instead of settling down and sleeping, he began to gather his belongings.

“Where are ye going?” the redheaded dwarf asked as he headed toward the fire. He sat down on a log with his blanket slung across his shoulders. His hair stuck out at unusual angles, his clothes were all mussed and wrinkled, and his weapons were lying in a pile on the ground instead of on his body. He yawned and stretched out, not fully awake yet.

Bofur studied his brother with amusement. “Just sleeping a bit further off. I’ll see ye in the morning.” He turned and walked back away from camp.

**

Bilbo was dozing off only to be awakened by a sudden wind. He drew his blanket closer and closed in on himself to preserve body heat. It was unusually cold for a summer night, but yet again, they had been going steadily uphill for the past week. The low temperature was to be expected. He wished he was closer to the fire, but as much as he wanted the warmth, he wanted to keep his distance from the rest of the company.

His musings were cut short by the sudden snapping of twigs and rustling of leaves. He looked up anxiously and saw a dark figure, slightly larger than himself coming his way. He quickly reached to his side and clutched his sword. True he didn’t know how to use it (he’d only gotten it last week when he found it in the troll hoard), but he still had to defend himself in any way he could, even if it meant flailing around a sword.

He tried to keep quiet and shrunk back against the tree as the figure got closer. Maybe if he remained quiet, whoever was coming would not pay attention to him and just walk by.

“Bilbo?” came a whisper. The hobbit felt his heart pounding in his chest.

“Wh-who’s there?” he asked unable to keep the panic out of his voice.

“Bilbo? Are ye alright? It’s Bofur.” answered the dwarf stopping in front of the hobbit. Bilbo deflated almost immediately and released his sword. He leaned back against the tree and closed his eyes. Bofur went about setting his bedroll beside Bilbo’s. He placed his weapons beside him and sat down.

Bilbo looked over at him with confusion. “What are you doing?” he asked curiously. “Are you sleeping here tonight?”

“If ye don’t mind,” the former answered quickly. “Is that alright with ye?”

The hobbit thought for a moment before nodding and smiling warmly. “That sounds quite agreeable,” he responded. He laid down on his side and pulled his blanket around himself. Before he knew it, he was fast asleep, feeling happier than he had in a long time.

The dwarf looked down at the sleeping hobbit fondly. He picked up one of his blankets and placed it upon his sleeping companion. He settled down, and he too quickly found sleep. The last thing said was a “goodnight Bilbo” muttered by a half sleeping dwarf.

**


	3. The Road to Imladris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No Orc ambush because (a) it doesn't happen in the book and (b) there will be plenty of orc/goblin action later on so Ima give them a break... for now. Friendship continues developing between Bilbo and Bofur. Gandalf manages to convince Thorin to go to Rivendell with his incessant yammering... (and some help from Bilbo and Balin). Thorin agrees because he needs to do what's best for the quest. But that doesn't mean he's gonna be happy about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters, places, etc. are the property of J.R.R Tolkien. Sorry, this chapter is so short. The next one will be longer though.

**

Early morning sun filtered through the leaves illuminating their parakeet hue. Bilbo wiggled beneath the blanket trying to shield his eyes from the blinding rays. It was too early to wake up now. He'd barely gotten enough sleep. If it were up to him, he wouldn't wake up till noon. It seemed that the exertion of the week has finally caught up with him.

He snuggled deeper into his pillow. At least he was lucky enough to have heat, that was more than he had most nights. Come to think about it, why was he so warm? It had been particularly chilly yesterday. Shouldn't he be freezing by now?

He pushed these thoughts away and drifted off again. At least he tried to, but the movement beside him alerted his mind. What in Yavanna's green gardens was that?

He forced his eyes open, exposing them to the bright sunlight. He blinked the burning sensation away and rubbed his face with his hand. As his sight adjusted, he became privy to the dwarf lying alongside him. Trying to ignore his rapidly flushing face, he untangled himself from the dwarf and sat upright.

Bilbo glanced at the camp the company had set up a few yards away. To his luck, everyone was still sleeping. Well...almost everyone since he only spotted eleven dwarves around the dying embers of the fire. Dropping his head into his hands, he hoped nobody saw him sleeping with another member of the company. What would they all think of him? How did he end up in this situation anyway? He had been talking to Bofur last night when he...

Oh, right... Bofur. After their conversation, the dwarf set his bedroll beside Bilbo's. The hobbit looked down at the sleeping dwarf and thought how lucky he was to now have an ally within the company. Bofur was a kind person and he had already proven himself a better friend than most.

Bilbo was so caught up in his thoughts he didn't notice the dwarf rousing beside him until he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Mornin'!" greeted him a cheery, if a bit sleepy, voice.

Bilbo, in turn, smiled brightly. "Good morning, Master Dwarf."

"C'mon now, don't be like that," he chuckled "ye can call me Bofur. Did ye sleep well?"

Bilbo nodded. "Yes, I slept quite well. You?"

"I did, indeed. Was a bit chilly though, yer blanket is much too thin for such weather, Bilbo. Did ye bring another one with ye?"

"No, I'm afraid I didn't. I packed in a hurry and didn't think to bring another. It's alright though, I'll just camp closer to the fire next time."

Bofur studied him for a second before standing up. "Hold on I think I have an extra. I'll be right back."

"No, that's not really necessary. You don't have to..." Bilbo started to argue, but the dwarf ignored him as he headed back to camp.

When he came back a few minutes later, he was holding a woolen, emerald green cloak. "I couldn't find it, must've been strapped onto one of the ponies. But I found my cloak. Ye can have it; it should keep ye warm during the night." He sat across from the hobbit and handed it to him.

"I can't take this, Bofur. What about you? You need it, it's your only one." Bilbo said firmly.

"Nah, it's alright. I'll take one from Bombur; he's got two. I would've given it to ye instead of this old thing but I suspect it would be too large for ye to wear."

"Are...are you sure?" he asked a bit guiltily. As much as it bothered him that Bofur had given him his only cloak, a part of him felt relieved by the offer. He had been waking up many times throughout the night due to the cold.

Bofur gave him a pat on the arm before standing up. "'Course I'm sure! Now get up ye silly Hobbit. Ye can go wash up while I wake the rest of the company."

Bilbo nodded but remained seated. "Bofur," he looked up at the dwarf. "Thank you. You're a good friend."

**

In a few hours, the company was on the road. Their morning had been a slow one, but if the good weather held up, they would be able to travel a good bit throughout the day. But it seemed that even the warm temperatures and blue skies couldn't resolve the dwarves' tempers. At least not all of them. Ori was chatting amiably with Fili and Kili. Yet again, the three of them had never been ill-tempered, to begin with. They'd laughed and talked all morning as though they were on a pleasant holiday, rather than a deadly journey across Middle Earth to face a dragon.

Bofur and Bombur were walking alongside one another discussing Aule-knows-what, and every once in a while Bifur would grunt or sign one thing or another. Balin and Dwalin spoke in hushed voices and they kept sending weary glances at Thorin. The dwarf's ill temper grew by the minute, and Gandalf's peevish grumbling was not helping in the least.

"We must stop for supplies soon," the old wizard admonished mildly.

"We will restock in due time. We've enough supplies for another week." Thorin grumbled without looking up. He was trying so hard to stay composed, but it seemed that Gandalf was determined to make him snap.

"In a week, we will be over the edge of the wild. There are no towns to restock there. I have already given you a solution Thorin."

At this, the dwarf bristled. Bilbo watched the anger flare up in Thorin's icy glare and he instantly knew that Gandalf hit a nerve. "We will not ask for any help from Elves!" he spat the word out as though it was venom.

"Lord Elrond would welcome us, he will provide ponies and provisions."

"We do not need his charity!"

"No, but you need his insight. He is one of the few in Middle Earth who can read ancient Dwarvish. He can tell us what may be hidden on the map."

Thorin stared at the old wizard incredulously. "You wish us to seek refuge with the enemy? The Elves will not bless our quest, they will try to stop us!" he all but shouted.

This... this was the side of Thorin that irked Bilbo to no end. He was so impossibly stubborn at times; not to mention his prejudice toward Elves. From the stories Belladonna used to tell him of her adventures, they sounded like a noble folk. Why he hated them all so much was beyond him.

"Well, I don't think we have much of a choice," he blurted out before could stop himself. Everyone was staring curiously at him now, except for Thorin who was glaring at him with no small amount of disdain. If looks could kill, he would have dropped dead on the spot. Bilbo knew he should stop talking but the hatred and fury directed at him only urged him forward. "I mean with no ponies, no supplies, and a map we cannot read, it would take a miracle for us to cross the Misty Mountains let alone reach Erebor. We don't even know where the hidden door is. Do you plan on scaling the entire mountainside for it?"

Bilbo felt his breath catch in his throat. Thorin was looking him straight in the eye now but he refused to look away. He will not cower away; he hadn't said anything wrong, in fact, he was right in everything he spoke. They stood there glaring at each other for what seemed like an eternity and Bilbo was just about to break when Balin came to his rescue.

"As much as I hate to admit it laddie, but Gandalf and Master Baggins have a point," the old dwarf said gently, "we need the map translated or all is for naught. If we do not know the location of the door, there is no way into the mountain."

Thorin deflated at that and lowered his head in resignation. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself and looked at his advisor. "If it is in our best interest, perhaps it is worth consideration." He turned to the old wizard nodded in assent. "We will agree to this, but I'll have you know that should anything go wrong, you will be held accountable."

Smirking slightly, Gandalf turned and began walking again. "Follow me, I will lead the way!" he called out with no small amount of amusement in his voice.

**

 


	4. Apologies and Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili and Kili decide to make it up to Bilbo and apologize about the run-in with the trolls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been months since the last update, I know. I just couldn't bring myself to write with school and finals and summer jobs BUT I made myself do it. Next update won't take this long, I promise. I hope you enjoy and tell me what you think. If you have any suggestions I would love to hear your ideas.

**

The trek up the Misty Mountains was strange, to say the least. Right from the start, the weather turned foul as ominous rain clouds rolled in. The following three days were a blur of grey skies and muddy trails, and it was only on the fourth day when they had traveled more than halfway up the mountains, that the rain dissipated. It soon became apparent that this wasn't any better because bitter winds and low temperatures replaced the humid air that hung about in the lower levels of the mountain range.

The weather wasn't the unusual part, Bilbo expected just as much after weeks on the road. No, the oddness began after his confrontation with Thorin. Since then, the dwarves had been throwing him furtive glances thinking they were discreet about it and that he hasn't noticed. Their looks weren't angry or malicious of course, they just seemed curious. Bilbo wouldn't go as far as to say they were fascinated by him or interested even; no it was more like they were sizing him up. They still wouldn't talk to him, no more than necessary that is.

Bofur stayed true to his word though. Every night he would set up Bilbo's sleeping roll beside his own, he even introduced the hobbit to his brother Bombur, and their cousin Bifur. They were a nice enough lot if a bit quiet. Bombur had a rather mild disposition, and Bifur couldn't speak Westron, yet Bilbo had taken a liking to them.

**

  
It was their fifth night on the road and the coldest yet. No matter how many layers he piled on, Bilbo just couldn't warm up. The cold finally woke him a few hours later. Sitting up, he drew his blanket closer and wrapped his cloak tightly around himself to relieve the intense tremors running down the length of his spine. The sky was still dark, the only light coming from the full moon and the dying embers. It couldn't have been past midnight.

As quietly as he could, he stood up and made his way to the fire, making sure to avoid stepping on Bofur who slept next to him. He shuffled silently, throwing a few pieces of wood into the weak flames before sitting down to stir at them with a stick. Across their makeshift campsite, Bilbo spotted Fili and Kili sitting on a boulder keeping watch their backs turned to the sleeping dwarves. How they were not freezing was beyond him. He turned his attention to the newly renewed flames and focused on warming himself up. Maybe once he was warm enough he would be able to go back to sleep; if not, he dreaded the day ahead of him tomorrow.

It was times like this that had him questioning why he decided to come. He no longer chided himself for joining Thorin's company, not since he became friends with the behatted dwarf, but he sometimes genuinely wondered what made him change his mind and take up the title 'burglar.' He could've stayed in the Shire living his comfortable, solitary life, yet he chose to leave all that behind, and here he was: body aching and stomach empty. Despite being silently criticized by almost everyone around him, Bilbo felt strangely at peace with himself, more than he had in years. At times he still felt out of place and unwanted, but that had been the case in the Shire as well. The difference was that hobbits were more subtle about it than dwarves. But what strengthened his resolve to stay was the feeling of liberation he felt out here. It was as though the part of himself that longed for the thrill of an adventure ** _—_** the part that had been repressed for so long ** _—_** was finally free to go explore the world and something worthwhile along the way.

His mother would be proud to see the hobbit he has chosen to be. He knew in his heart that had the company come to Bag-End forty years earlier seeking _her_ help, Belladonna would've taken it upon herself to see their homeland reclaimed. His father, on the other hand, might not be too thrilled to see what has become of his beloved son.

A gust of wind whipped against his back pulling him back from his musings. He gripped his cloak tighter and buried his head between his propped up knees. The gale relentlessly blew for what felt like hours, leaving his body was shivering violently in its wake. He inched closer to the fire and curled further in on himself trying to preserve heat. Although cold, he began to drift off before he was startled by a sudden weight on his shoulder. His head whipped up and as his bleary eyes adjusted, he spotted two figures before him. Fili and Kili, his mind supplied a second later.

"Are you alright Mister Baggins?" the former asked with a hint of concern.

Kili kneeled beside Bilbo and looked questioningly at him. "Why are you sitting out here? You should be resting" he said kindly.

Bilbo looked blankly at the two brothers as his mind struggled to form coherent thoughts. "Oh... I'm alright, don't worry about me. I just got a bit cold so I came to warm up by the fire." He managed a faint smile at the young dwarves. "Is your watch over?"

"Yeah, we were on our way to wake up uncle Thorin," answered Kili.

Bilbo looked at the leader of their group sleeping a fair distance away beside Dwalin. The stubborn dwarf had taken watch every night this past week. He was unmoving in his sleep, yet his shoulders were tense and his posture rigid seemingly unable to relax even in his sleep. "You don't have to do that. I'm already up, I will take watch. Let him sleep," the hobbit offered.

The two brothers shared a mischievous smile before the older walked back to their bedrolls. Kili sat down beside Biblo, making himself comfortable before turning over to him. "You really should be asleep, Mister Boggins. You'll need plenty of rest for tomorrow."

"I know... I'll go to sleep in a few minutes. I want to sit here for now... just for a little while." Bilbo stared into the fire, gripping at his cloak. In the corner of his eye, he saw Dwalin stomp toward the boulder to settle in for next watch. Bilbo was glad Fili didn't wake up Thorin, Yavanna knows that obstinate dwarf needs some sleep.

"Are you still cold? You can come join me and Fili if you want. We have plenty of blankets" Kili said earnestly. He looked down at the hobbit before him trying to catch his gaze.

Bilbo's eyes widened slightly before he schooled his expression. He was touched by the dwarf's kind offer and desperately wanted to except, but he knew it wouldn't be well received. "That's thoughtful of you Master Dwarf, but I couldn't possibly."

"No, I insist. It's especially windy tonight, and the temperature will only drop as the night goes on." The dwarf paused for a second before adding, "And Master Boggins, you can call me Kili."

This time the hobbit couldn't hide his surprise as he looked up at the former. Just as quickly as the shock came, it subsided as he smiled warmly and nodded in response. "You may also call me by my name, Kili."

"Does that mean you'll take us up on our offer?"

"I... I don't think so. You didn't discuss this with your brother beforehand, and I don't want to impose on either of you. Like I said, I will be fine tonight."

"But you won't be imposing," sounded Fili from behind him. "Think of it as a way of apologizing for what happened with the trolls. We didn't mean to get you into that mess, honestly. You had to deal with uncle's temper all week and yet you still didn't tell him that we were to blame."

"We feel horrible about it. And we'll feel even worse knowing that you were cold all night and we did nothing to help."

Bilbo felt a surge of fondness for the two brothers. Now that he was able to closely look at them, he realized that they were quite young... almost too young to be out here on the road. By hobbit standards, they were barely out of their tweens.

"I wouldn't want you to feel bad on my behalf, but surely you know that your uncle wouldn't take kindly to such an offer." Bilbo shuttered at the thought of Thorin reaction upon finding out his nephews decided to keep company with him. "He doesn't want me here. You see the way most of the company follows his lead and avoids me," he said turning back to the fire.

"Our dear hobbit," Fili announced in a rather amused tone. "Nobody here bears a grudge against you. Uncle might not be too pleased, but even _he_ would not have you freeze during the night. We do not make our offer out of pity or duty. It is an offer between friends."

At that Bilbo looked up and smiled warmly at the two brothers. "Then I accept your offer and would be honored to call you friends." With that, Kili took his arm helping him to his feet, and the three of them made their way back to camp.

**

 

 

 


End file.
